Jonah Hex: A Legend Begins
by SuperBatWonder
Summary: When bounty hunter Jonah Hex is hired to hunt down an old acquaintance by the name of Quentin Turnball, he must ride through the wild west, reuniting with old friends and enemies. But can the cursed assassain catch his bounty before he himself becomes the bounty? Through Native American villages to the old towns of Post-Civil War America, Jonah Hex is put to the test.
1. Chapter 1

**Jonah Hex**

**Chapter One**

The heavy odor of lust wafted off of him, mixed with the rank fumes of sweat. She could tell by the ash on his breath that he was a heavy smoker, and by the fumbling of his fingers as he had undone his belt that he was drunk. The heavy odor of lust wafted off of him with the rank fumes of sweat. She could also tell this simply because these were the qualities of the only men she saw these days.

"That'll cost you a dollar," she said with her light, Native American voice, unemotionally as she got out of the creaky bed and stepped back into her white dress.

"Ah, darlin', I was thinkin' you might cut me some slack considerin' I just gave you the best day of work you'll ever get," the man replied from the bed. "Maybe you should be the one payin' me."

"Give me my money or I'll…"

In an instant she was slammed against the wall with brute force.

"Maybe I'll just give you another on the house," his fowl breath whispered into her ear as his hand paved a path up her bare leg to the hem of her dress.

"Give the lady her money and get out," spoke a steady voice behind them. "Now."

"That voce belong to a face?" she heard the man on her ask, as she was finally let free.

The woman turned as well. In the doorway stood a man wearing a light blue Confederate uniform, complete with a wide brimmed hat, with a double holster belt holding dual pistols. The only thing besides his outdated Confederate outfit that she hadn't seen anyone wear since the Yankees won the Civil War only a few years ago, was the side of his face to her left. Burn scars covered the entire flesh of the side of his face, forming craters where the skin had been eaten away. The eye on that side of his face was pulled into a wide oval that he was surely blind in. His mouth was stretched into a permanent, angry sneer on that side. A single strand of skin connected the upper and lower lips of his growl.

"Not a face you were hopin' for," the strange man in the doorway answered.

"What's it matter to you whether or not this red skin whore gets her money or not?" the still naked customer questioned.

There was no humor in the Confederate's disfigured face as he replied, "I just don't care to see a man without his manhood."

The naked man was confused. "What the hell are you…?"

Before the customer could finish, the Confederate somehow had both of his guns drawn in the blink of an eye, and two shots rang out simultaneously as the naked man fell to the ground screaming. The Native American woman turned from red to green as she saw a puddle of blood form beneath the naked man's groin.

When she looked back up at her savior, his pistols were already replaced in their holsters, and he kneeled down besides the pile of the man's clothes. Taking a wad of cash from a pocket of the man's trousers, he tossed it to the prostitute, stood, and left without a word.

Leaving the moaning man on the wood floor, the woman sped out of the second floor room onto the indoor balcony and looked down on the saloon, where the man sat at a table hidden in the shadows with an entire bottle of beer.

A fellow whore in a matching white dress joined the Native American on the balcony.

"Annabelle?" the Native American asked.

"Yes, Mei?" Annabelle asked.

"Who is that man?" she questioned, pointing at the mysterious man in the corner.

"That?" Annabelle's voice seemed shocked as she saw the melted face that Mei was pointing at. "Why that's the bounty hunter. That there's Jonah Hex!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

From his corner of the saloon, the bounty hunter could see from his one good eye the rest of the patrons in the building, in case any of them tried to stir up a fight, and the door, where the sheriff would soon be coming in with Hex's money. The girl upstairs was a bonus. He knew she had information that he needed. Originally he had planned to go up and confront her, but after he had to take care of the perverted cowboy, he knew she would come to him on her own.

The wooden saloon doors swung open and closed as the sheriff entered with two other men. His golden star badge bragged his authority, though it couldn't completely disguise his nervousness from Hex. When the sheriff spotted Hex in the shrouded shadows, he and his posse approached. Hex noticed the guns in their belts, and their cocky intimidation routine.

"You have my money?" asked Hex as the men joined him at the table.

"That depends," the sheriff replied. "Where is the man I wanted?"

"I'm insulted you think I'd lie to you," Hex answered, getting out of his seat. All of the eyes in the now silent saloon followed the four men as Hex led the sheriff and his guards out back. Tied by a rope to the back of his horse was a wooden coffin. Staying behind uninterested, Hex watched as the sheriff's men opened the lid of the coffin. Inside lay what was left of the outlaw Bart Shiff.

The sheriff gagged at the sight of the bloody corpse, and one of his men puked at the day's old smell of rot and decay that welcomed him. Hex didn't even acknowledge the disgust as he lit a cigarette.

"What is this, Hex?" the sheriff snapped angrily.

"A bank robber, rapist, and killer," Hex answered. From his pocket he brought out a crumpled Wanted sign with Shiff's face on it. "Or at least, according to you it is."

"So you slaughtered him until he was barely recognizable?"

"The poster said 'dead or alive'. I thought I'd cut him some slack and leave it at dead."

"Alright, Hex," the sheriff said, "I'll get your money, but then I want you out of my town."

"I wasn't planning on staying."

The sheriff examined Hex, and then left towards the bank with his men. Hex stomped out his cigarette and went to the front of the saloon, where he stood waiting on the porch.

From the window, the prostitute named Mei watched him with uncertain feelings. His face scared her, but there was something behind his hideous mask that didn't match up.

"Mister?" asked a sweet voice to Hex. He looked down to see a small girl of about six looking up at him with big blue eyes. She wore a cute pink dress, and her red hair was in two pigtails hanging over her shoulders. She didn't seem frightened of the disfigured soldier before her, only filled with a childish curiosity. "What's wrong with your face, mister?"

"That's not a polite thing to ask," he said.

"I meant no offense, mister," the girl apologized.

"No," Hex replied softy, "I don't suppose you did."

"Can I touch it?" the girl asked curiously. Hex kneeled down to her, and she gently placed her tiny hand on his burned face. "Does it hurt?"

"Only when it rains."

"Are you sad?" the girl asked caringly. "You look sad."

There was a gasp from behind Hex. He turned to see a woman holding groceries, though they instantly landed on the ground.

"Get the hell away from my daughter, you monster," she growled with scared hatred. Hex stood obediently and looked at the woman. The woman rushed to the innocent girl and held her in her arms.

"Ma, he didn't do anything! We were just talkin'!" the girl pleaded. A crowd was gathering around the saloon to watch.

"Don't think I didn't see what you were doin' to my daughter!" the woman yelled, purposely louder than usual so that the crowd could hear as well. "Touchin' her with your foul hands, knowin' she was too innocent to do anything about it!"

Mei ran out of the saloon to Hex's side. "I was a witness, ma'am. He did nothing wrong," she protested.

"Listen to the lady," He said. "You'll live longer."

The mother turned her attention on Mei, glaring angrily. "How dare you defend this killer instead of my innocent daughter," she growled through gritted teeth. "How dare you betray a member of your community for a murderous Grayback!"

Several guns clicked behind Hex as they were cocked. "Hex," announced the voice of the sheriff, "I think your stay is over."

Hex turned around to face the sheriff and his armed men. "Not until I get my money."

The sheriff, full of disgust, tossed Hex a bag of money. "There. Now get out of my town. If I ever see your ugly face around here again, I'll put a bounty on your head."

Without a word, Hex walked away from the saloon, the crowd clearing a path and watching as he walked past. His horse, now untied from the coffin, waited for him now behind the crowd. Mounting the horse, it walked away from the town slowly, leaving yet another town that he would never return to.

From the porch of the saloon, the little girl took a small blue flower, rare in this part of the dusty south, and looked up at the sad man leaving in exile. Next to her, the sheriff whispered something into one of his men's ear, who then nodded. Just as the armed man raised his rifle and pointed it at Hex's back, the girl ran past the crowd towards Hex to give him the flower.

In an instant, Mei saw the man raise his rifle at Hex. Quickly, she jumped on his back with all of her weight immediately before a shot rang out of the silent town. Out of instinct, Hex turned around at lightning speed to see what was going on. Right behind him he could see the girl, a blue flower in hand, trip and fall forward as a circle of dark blood spread over the back of her pretty pink dress.

His horse bucked from the sound of the gunfire and tossed Hex into the air, but he landed on the ground in a roll, ending in a lunge stances with his right leg against the ground, balancing on that knee, and the other foot placed firmly in front of him. He fired into the crowd, but even at this distance of a couple of yards, he shot the girl's accidental killer directly between the eyes. He ran to the girl and kneeled before her once again and held her in his arms. Blood from the bullet wound got on his suit as he looked into her squinting eyes.

"Mister?" she said quietly.

"Yes," he replied gently.

She reached out and gave him the flower and he took it, before her eyes slowly closed shut. Hex, with an unfaltering straight face, laid her down on the ground and stood. Mounting his calming down horse, he again made his way out of the town, carefully placing the flower into his pocket. Behind him he could hear the screaming of the girl's mother, calling out her daughter's name as if it would bring her back to life. Hex's good eye didn't match his seemingly uncaring lip, as he secretly struggled to keep his composure. He bowed his head down as he entered the untamed American west once again.


End file.
